My boobs were my tools of the trade for almost 20 months.

Once my youngest daughter weaned herself from the Magical Boob Juice, the fun really began!

(And by fun we all know I mean chaos!)

Pull up a chair, sit a while, read a few pages.

Keep and open mind and a joyful heart and you too can get pumped into the world of The Milk Maid.


10/23/08

The Small Things In Life

She turned the corner in a hurry. It'd been a hectic day, as usual, but she presented a sincere smile as she turned the corner.

She wasn't sure if what she saw sitting in the woman's lap was a real human child or a baby doll. Perhaps the real kid was hiding under the chairs in the waiting room.

A tiny whine came from the small figure. It was a real baby. The smallest child she'd ever been face to face with.

The mother explained to her that P*rter was nine months old. P*rter had weighed 1.2 pounds at birth, and was now a whopping 4 pounds, 14 ounces. P*rter had also been born with pri*mordial dwarf*ism.

She couldn't help but notice P*rter's sweet face being cascaded in a full head of what she could only describe as "Clay Aiken's hair". Honey brown, sticking out in all directions, and just too adorable for words.

The following day was much the same, only she was working inside instead of with patients. Tiny P*rter needed blood drawn for various tests. Luckily, a heel stick was all that was needed and not a venous draw. The girls in the lab fawned over Mr. P as he was nicknamed. That was Friday.

Monday started like any other day... Patients filling draw rooms, specimen counters were full, people were running left and right and back and forth looking for this and helping that person and calling doctors with STAT reports.

When Dr. Joe walked into the room no one noticed him at first. It's not unusual to see Dr. Joe scooting around the lab. What was unusual was seeing no smile upon Dr. Joe's face.

Everyone paused, sensing some news was coming that no one wanted to hear...

You can stop reading this post now, imagine the outcome of the story, count your sorrows and move along or you can continue to read this post and perhaps be touched in the same way by Mr. P as I was...

Dr. Joe started by saying that he was very sorry to tell us this news. P*rter had passed away in his sleep from complications stemming out of his dwarfism and his prematurity. He continued with he hoped we all got to meet P*rter and celebrate the short time we were blessed with his presence. Dr. Joe wanted to continue, but with a tear in his eye he wished us a good day and quickly walked away leaving everyone in a state of shock.

I couldn't understand how this could have happened. He was just in the office. He was just right there. I had just talked about that sweet baby and how I'd fallen in love with him the moment I'd seen him.

I didn't sleep very well that night. I wrestled with the demons that were trying to tell me that maybe I should have done something different or better or maybe I'd made him sick somehow and it was MY fault that he'd passed away. In that normal area of stillness between dusk and dawn there was turmoil and sadness. How could God have taken this baby away from his parents? The parents who obviously were so filled with love and adoration for their child. If I was feeling this level of sadness and anger then what must his family be feeling?

This morning my feelings shifted from anger and not being able to even fathom the why of it all to something completely different.

How can I make this better? How can I fix this?

My mind raged with ideas from the mundane to the insane. Words like egg donation and surrogacy, as well as concepts like scholarships and fundraisers swirled in the endless abyss of my thoughts. Even the image of a Stephen King's Pet Cemetery style reincarnation came to mind, albeit briefly.

After much debate and lots of inner-monologue-style discussions I will be attending the memorial service in honor of Mr. P's life on behalf of the lab department. It wont fix anything and it wont change anything and it won't bring P*rter back, but it is the least I can do. If for no one else but myself.

14 comments:

twondra said...

Wow....I am so sorry. What a shock. Thinking of you.

Sorry to bring this up...but do you know how I can get a hold of
my cowgirl alter-ego?? She left a comment about embryo donation and I would love to talk to her about it....just don't know how to get a hold of her. Thanks.

I'm thinking of you.

my cowgirl alter-ego said...

Oh, honey.

Sometimes angels are for a reason, I think. We've never met him, but today we feel him. Thanks to you.

I'll hold your hand while you are there.

B said...

hh MilkMaid. I know you really liked that little boy, I could hear it in your voice the other day. Im so sorry. I'm glad you will be there tomorrow. I'll be around all day tomorrow in case you need to talk, and will be calling you even if you don't think you need to.
Love you.

B said...
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Aunt Becky said...

Oh sweetie, it's never easy to lose someone like that. I wish I could say something more profound, but that's not my strong suit.

Send light and love to Porter's family from his Internet Aunt Becky.

Montana's mom said...
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Heidi said...

Oh MM. You did nothing wrong, in fact you did everything right. You smiled. You didn't shrink away or act like he was odd, which I know that some people would.

You coooed over him, and thought about him. He did his job, and you did beyond yours.

Much love and prayers for his family.

BIG HUGS and love for you.

onemorebaby said...

I am so sorry... it is just so hard, and sadly part of being in the medical field. My dh came home yesterday and cried on my shoulder about diagnosing an 8yo boy with a massive, inoperable brain tumor. Part of what makes him a good doctor is the ability to still feel and not becomed detached after practicing for 40 years. Your ability to care so deeply is part of what makes us all care so much about you as well. Again, I am so sorry for the loss...

Hugs,
ag

Unknown said...
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Michelle said...

Im so sorry you have to go through that. Hugs to you my friend.

battynurse said...

Oh my. How sad.

Anonymous said...

Oh, honey. I'm sorry.

Mamato2 said...

...wow

Anonymous said...

I just started reading you blogs today 12/28/09. I work at a preschool and while the kids were asleep I was doing some lesson plans and came across your website. I believe everything happens for a reason, so I started to read. You are a great person with a wonderful loving heart and I know God will bless you.